


Magnetic.

by RosePetalsAndRain



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Angst with a Happy Ending, Astronomy, Celestial Bodies Personified?? - In a Way, EXTREME AMOUNTS OF LOVE BRRRR, Lee Felix is Whipped (Stray Kids), Lee Minho | Lee Know Is Bad at Feelings, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Outer Space, Stars, Strangers to Lovers, black holes, feeding the devoid minlix tag as i should, felix just wants to give him a hug and lots of love, i played with the layout for sexy poetic purposes pls enjoy, minho is touch-starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:08:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29987496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosePetalsAndRain/pseuds/RosePetalsAndRain
Summary: Minho grunts, using his voice for the first time in thousands upon millions of millennia as he brings his knees up to his chest, trying to block out the sound. He's dreaming."Supermassive black hole! Hi! I thought I was the only one, gosh-"Minho's eyes snap open."What?" God, his voice is wrecked after so long of misuse."Hello!" Vantablack irises meet his own matching ones across the abyss and Minho gasps, sending himself hurtling a few lightyears away in shock. The eyes crinkle; the voice laughs, and the other being pushes themself forwards to meet them again, still a safe distance away."I'm Felix. I had no idea there were other supermassive black holes out here besides myself!"
Relationships: Lee Felix/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 10
Kudos: 36





	Magnetic.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello! Welcome. This fic a little outside of what I usually write, but I couldn't resist my own take on a space fic whilst I'm so passionate about astronomy - so I hope you'll enjoy! Pining minlix with a lick of angst is just what everyone needs ;)
> 
> (i have an early start tomorrow and so this is unedited as of yet - i'll go back over it and look for typos tomorrow sometime. if there are any horrific ones do let me know so i can correct them!)

* . 

˚ ✩ . · 

What is the meaning of existence, when all one has to do is float through the infinite cosmos of space?

One would argue that life has little meaning when there is no limit -- when there's no telling which way is up or down, or where everything ends - _if_ it ends - it's a fair argument that there's even less point in life than one living on Earth, where opportunities are limited by the atmosphere, where the oxygen runs out.

Well, however suffocating endless freedom can be - Lee Minho can guarantee that the _sights_ are like nothing seen before.

What are the green grasses of Earth, the icy rings of Saturn, the glowing reds that make up Venus, to the infinite expanse of the cosmos? Planets are miniature, and confining: the _universe_ , however, is bursting with endless sights and colours invisible to the human eye.

And so, it helps that Minho is a black hole, all things considered. This way, he can take in every single beauty the universe has to offer without being held back by trifling matters such as mortal senses.

  
  


He thanks the universe for this blessing.

  
  


At least the beauty of space can distract him from his... _crippling loneliness._

Being a black hole -- supermassive at that -- the only company he has is the endless amount of matter being drawn to him by gravity. It's not _annoying_ so much as it is occasionally overwhelming, but he deals with it. It's just something that comes with having such a strong gravitational field -- although he really does feel guilty when particularly beautiful stars are drawn to him. He's powerless against himself, and that is perhaps the scariest part of it all.

Of course, Minho wasn't always so lonely. As a child; as a star, he happily had many friends. Quite a handful of them - and he'd talk to them daily, letting each other get caught up in orbits and circling around each other in a tender dance of appreciation. There's never a lonely hour when you're a star; there are always more stars to talk to, befriend and swap stories with. One particularly engaging topic was the subject of constellations, and the stories that humans told about them, and how they came to be. Minho was a proud friend of the seven sisters named the Pleiades, and before he collapsed, would visit them often, letting them retell their stories over and over and listening with rapt attention.

  
  


Once he collapsed, though, being over the usual mass of most stars, he found that he couldn't... _stop._

  
  


The force of his collapsing forced away most of his mass whilst his inner gravity just _kept going, kept pulling and pulling and pulling_ and he _couldn't stop, it wouldn't end, he was being consumed and then-_

  
  


**Nothing.**

  
  


All was peaceful again, and Minho found the strength to reopen his eyes, peering around himself to find... well, he _definitely_ wasn't a star anymore, that's for sure. Where he had once glowed bright, radiating light so bright and strong its rays could reach planets millions of lightyears away, now there was simply _nothing_ . No light whatsoever - if one were to look at him with human eyes, he simply _wouldn't be there_ \- his own body was consuming whatever light dares touch him, leaving him empty; a mere void feeding off anything that got too near.

He'd left his familiar part of the cosmos after that, not being able to bear the shame of becoming something so _dark_ among his beautiful, radiant friends. He didn't want to -- he _couldn't_ \-- get too close to them for fear of consuming them too… he couldn't risk doing that to the people he held so close and loved so dearly. Especially as a newly formed supermassive, he was especially unstable; couldn't risk anything when he didn't even know his own strength yet. He would _not_ let his friends become his guinea pigs.

But that had been millions of years ago, literally. Since his transition from star to supermassive, Minho had spent every nanosecond of time alone, and silent. He guesses he really does live up to nature's stereotype of him this way: a silent mover in the dark, destroying everything that comes into contact with him only to grow greedier; a cosmic cannibal.

What these stereotypes fail to acknowledge, a lot of the time, is the fact that his gravity is completely uncontrollable to Minho himself, and he can't _help_ what he does, no matter his attempts to stop. And believe him, he's tried _everything_ he can possibly think of.

  
  


Where does one go when they're lonely, and are terrified of destroying the things they could come to love; _have_ come to love? How does one deal with the relentless struggle against one's own natural movement to steer away from breathtaking nebulas and vastly expanding supernovas? Although Minho found that he could stop still for a while, simply existing in one space at a time, he had to start moving soon after or he would become weak.

  
  


Millions of years of moving, moving, moving and still he had not reached a dead end; not even a single sign that the universe would be finite.

  
  


Nebulas pass over and below in ethereal bursts of sparkling colours; constellations unseen and forgotten twinkle at him from their own safe distances and even unknown matter mutter a greeting to him in passing, so long as they don't get caught up within Minho himself. But as blessed as his world is, he cannot ever think to smile back, nor return a greeting. For every interaction is fleeting, and only reminds him of the consistency that he is not allowed to treasure.

He's never seen another black hole. Perhaps he is the only one; perhaps he simply skipped over them in his glazed attempts to find a friendly face or safe space to take solace in. Either way, no black hole: mini, supermassive, active or otherwise, has ever called out to him, nor made themselves visible. And so, his longing for companionship continues.

  
  


* . 

˚ ✩ . · 

  
  
  


It's simply another _time_ when **it** happens.

One may describe this _time_ as a morning, or night, or day - but one cannot do this here. In space, time is irrelevant; infinite, yet nonexistent. There's no such thing as before, or after: there's simply _now._ And that is all that is certain.

So it is _now,_ but another frame of being, when it happens.

Minho is half-asleep, admittedly. It's exhausting sometimes, using so much energy to project yourself through the fabric of space-time. His eyes are about to slip closed when he hears it.

"Hello? Oh, hi! Hi, over there!"

Minho grunts, using his voice for the first time in thousands upon millions of millennia as he brings his knees up to his chest, trying to block out the sound. He's dreaming.

"Supermassive black hole! Hi! I thought I was the only one, gosh-"

  
  


Minho's eyes snap open.

  
  


"What?" God, his voice is _wrecked_ after so long of misuse.

"Hello!" Vantablack irises meet his own matching ones across the abyss and Minho gasps, sending himself hurtling a few lightyears away in shock. The eyes crinkle; the voice laughs, and the other being pushes themself forwards to meet them again, still a safe distance away.

"I'm Felix. I had no idea there were other supermassive black holes out here besides myself!"

Minho blinks rapidly. Now that he's aware of Felix's presence, he can make out a soft form; carefully sculpted features, a kind smile and those all-consuming eyes that reflect the stars surrounding them. Felix reaches out a hand; Minho flinches back.

  
  


"D- don't."

  
  


"Oh. Sorry," Felix says apologetically, retracting his hand. "What's your name?"

"Minho," Minho whispers into the darkness, and Felix grins again.

"Minho. Nice to meet you! How long have you been a supermassive for?" they're both moving again now, side by side, safely distanced as they talk. Every so often more matter will be pulled into one's gravitational field, but neither pay any mind to it, and that's something Minho revels in more than he thought he would - there are no shocked or judging eyes following every movement; no surrounding gasps of fear and cries to other celestial bodies to _stay away_.

"Millions of earth-years by now."

"What's an earth year?" Felix asks. "I was only a star for a thousandth of my known life, I think. Although my logic in calculating it is definitely flawed... I counted it by the rough amount of times I've slept, and done it that way."

Minho blinks. He himself rarely sleeps - it sounds like Felix may even be just as old as he is.

"Earth - a planet in the milky way galaxy. They have their own perception of time, and since I originated in that galaxy it became nature for me to measure time as they did. We figured it out from the earliest stars who watched them go about their day since the beginning of life."

"Wow," Felix whispers, and turns to Minho, suspended on his side as he rests his head on his hand. "So you've got a lot of galaxy travelling experience, huh?"

"I guess so. Have you?"

"Y _es_ ," Felix groans, "So much. My favourite galaxy was definitely this one I came across that was just, _pure_ blue. It glowed brighter than any galaxy I've travelled past before, and had all these golden balls in it? They might have been planets, or just medium stars, but either way - beautiful."

  
  


Felix talks a lot, Minho discovers, as they travel side by side for goodness knows how long. But it's nice, he decides - and a welcome distraction from the deafening silence that consumed just as much of Minho's sanity as Minho consumed spacial matter.

  
  


After a while, Minho's learned more about Felix than he's ever learned about any of his star companions back home: he knows his favourite constellations, nebulas, galaxies; strangest experiences whilst travelling the cosmos; biggest and craziest things to have ever passed through his event horizon. It's so refreshing to have someone to _relate_ to that he doesn't realise _quite_ how attached he's become in whatever time has passed until Felix casually brings up the topic of destinations.

"So, are you headed anywhere? Any goals or places to visit, or are you just travelling where the cosmos takes you?" he says, and Minho blanks, his head feeling like the empty space between stars; fuzzy and unclear.

"I... never really considered _going_ anywhere, truth be told."

"Oh? Then we can travel together," Felix smiles, and just for a second, Minho thinks he's found his own sunshine.

He reaches out to take Minho's hand, and for the second time of their acquaintance, Minho flinches away. The light in Felix's eyes dim, but he doesn't press it; clears his throat and presses on with conversation.

"Uh- if you want to, that is. We can be travel companions!"

Minho considers; thinks back to the endless abyss of time collected into a thick wad in his memories, and compares it to the time he's spent with Felix, full of bright smiles and a feeling akin to warm, fluffiness in his chest, and decides that maybe, just maybe, it's worth the selfish risk to travel with Felix. If not only for a little while.

"Sure. I'd like that," Minho agrees, and Felix smiles so brightly that Minho himself has to physically stop himself from reaching over and running his thumb over those star-sprinkled cheeks that bunch up so happily.

But he cannot do that. He _won't_ destroy this by a silly need for physical touch.

Is he touch starved? Incredibly. 

But what’s another million years when you’ve been around for billions? 

“So, where to?” 

Felix grins lazily, and spreads his arms wide, gazing out into the abyss. “Into infinity.” 

  
  


* . 

˚ ✩ . · 

  
  


Sometimes, at times like these - and by _times like these,_ Minho means _this time he’s spent with Felix,_ he almost wishes for some sort of celestial timekeeping, just so that he can measure how long he’s been with the younger body, to hold it protectively to his chest and keep the memory of it physically separate from the infinite billions of lightyears he had spent alone. 

Because now, with Felix - things are _incredible._

Before, where Minho would travel aimlessly through spacetime, not greeting or acknowledging anything, _now_ it was like his eyes had been opened, with Felix excitedly pointing out passing stars or nebulas - and once, they had even been lucky enough to catch a supernova right in the throes of its untimely demise, an outstanding plethora of colours and vibrations and textures that travel soundlessly through the darkness, lighting it up with thousands of shades and personality… Minho’s mouth dropped open at the sight, and Felix had giggled beside him. 

Of course, the two had kept a healthy distance between each other, though Felix didn’t cease in his countless attempts to move closer. Each attempt was met with a look of panic from Minho, who tried to move away, and so the decidedly younger body would stop, no questions asked; simply presuming that Minho wasn’t a fan of physical touch. 

“I wonder if we’d have looked as beautiful, if only our masses had been smaller,” Felix muses, as they watch the unnamed star collapse. “Perhaps we’d also be beautiful nebulas, existing in such a vast burst of colours.” 

Minho studies the body suspended in the sky next to him. He looks close: counts every single star that litters Felix’s cheeks, as ironic as the feat is; he blinks at the endless abysses that blink right back at him; he feels the warmth radiating from Felix’s smile that keeps his heart warm against all other odds.

“I hardly think you need to be colourful to have beauty,” Minho whispers, a secret only for Felix to hear. “You’re the most beautiful celestial body I’ve ever come across.” 

Felix blinks up at him, and the supernova is reflected back through his eyes, tiny galaxies encapsulated within those windows to his beautiful, beautiful soul. 

“Thank you,” Felix whispers back, and smiles wide, wider than Minho has ever seen him smile as of yet. And _darn_ \- if that smile doesn’t rival even the brightest stars in the sky, Minho doesn’t know _what_ does. 

A feeling of warmth, and even _belonging,_ floods his chest at the sight, and Minho has to tear his eyes away from Felix before he blurts out something he might regret, instead directing his gaze back to the supernova in front of them. 

He feels Felix’s eyes stuck to his side profile, but he pretends not to notice, too afraid of what he might see there if he did. 

“Do you think we could travel through the supernova?” he proposes, genuinely considering it. “It would be so beautiful… we could get up close and see everything.”

“We’re supermassive black holes, Min,” Felix reminds him, voice soft. “We can’t get close to _anything_ without sucking them into our gravity and destroying them.” 

“Oh…” Minho had forgotten, just for a second. Just for an instant, the universe had just been himself and Felix, and nothing else. Not their celestial bodies, not their surroundings… just them. 

“You know…” Felix glides closer, only by a spacial inch or two. Nothing noticeable, nothing so different that Minho feels the need to prevent it, but enough that Minho already feels burned by it. It’s not a bad sort of burning, for once in his existence. “I’ve heard, in passing, that there is a way for black holes to stop consuming and just… _balance out_.” 

“What?” Minho almost laughs. “That’s impossible.”

“Have you not noticed that every galaxy has a supermassive black hole in its centre?” Felix moves forward by a mere breath’s width, and the proximity sets Minho’s entire being alight. It’s torturous.

_Oh_. “I never considered that.” 

“They’re completely stable,” Felix murmurs, and reaches out a hand, wincing when Minho flinches back predictably. “They aren’t eating at their galaxies. They just exist, in harmony with their surroundings.” 

Minho can only blink, aghast. “How...?” 

“I think it’s different depending on which type of black hole you are… but for us, we could always - we could always merge?” Felix's voice shakes with uncertainty, and Minho knows they’re both equally aware of the weight behind his words. 

At Minho’s silence, Felix spurs himself on, speaking through the nerves eating an unstable wormhole through his insides. “You’d just have to let me get close to you… close enough to orbit. That’s all. We would be sucked into each other’s orbits, and merge in time… Stable, Minho. Safe. I promise you.”

“None of this cares for us,” Minho says, gesturing desperately to the silent abyss around them. Every single surrounding microorganism seems to hold its breath, waiting, listening, wanting. “Not a single atom. And what if it all goes wrong?” 

“But what if it all goes _right?”_ Felix raises his voice, the words sounding pleading and desperate even though Minho tries desperately to block it all out, and hear only what he wants to hear: resignation, and the safety blanket of knowing that there would be little consequence to him, or now Felix too, if anything bad were to happen.

He screws his eyes closed, against the cosmos and against Felix, and unbidden images flash behind them like the explosion and rebirth of another universe. _Gravity, too much gravity, too much force, too much_ **_speed_ ** **,** _hurting, hurting,_ **_hurting_ ** **,**

“Listen to me,” Felix whispers, and somehow the sound is even louder than when he was shouting; stroking Minho’s eardrums in both the best and worst conceivable ways. “We can do this. We can be together, forever, and never have to worry about what would happen if we got too close together…”

_It’s_ **_too much_ **. 

Suddenly Minho is spinning, spinning out of control - each surrounding star and nebula and celestial body is suddenly too loud and too bright and too close yet too far and then there’s Felix; Felix who could never hurt him, whom _he_ would never hurt, and he’s just _there_ and looking so _worried, illuminated with sudden white light which should be_ **_impossible - where is the light coming from --_ ** _stop worrying my darling, I love y--_

Minho loves Felix.

  
  
  
  
  
  


He closes his eyes, and lets his emotions suffocate him.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


* . 

˚ ✩ . · 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


When Minho opens his eyes again, it’s after what feels like millennia upon millennia, and he’s surrounded by **nothingness**. 

No stars…

No moons.

No planets.

No celestial bodies at all.

  
  


But worst of all, there’s no Felix.

  
  
  


Minho closes his eyes again. 

And for the first time in his exhaustingly long life, he lets himself cry.

  
  
  
  


* . 

˚ ✩ . · 

  
  
  


_Felix…_ _I’m so, so sorry._

In his desperation for everything; his emotional attachment, his fears, his _vulnerability_ , to go away… he had unintentionally destroyed the one source of happiness and, ironically, light in his life.

In trying to run away from his original pain, he had created an avalanche of additional pain, and the only person who could relieve it; the only person it was _related_ to, was goodness-knows how many light years away from Minho.

He knows damn well what happened. He’s been to _stupid, so unbelievably stupid…_ of _course_ he knew that letting his emotions get the best of him would only serve to increase his gravity, to the point that the spacial matter being drawn to him would begin to orbit so fast that he would, in essence, explode into a mass of white-hot light, emitting radiation for undreamable amounts of lightyears.

And in doing so, he had pushed away Felix. Dear, beautiful, lively Felix… where was he now? 

  
  


* . 

˚ ✩ . · 

  
  
  


Hundreds of thousands of light years away, Felix’s celestial body was still moving, unstoppably propelled throughout space time from the force of Minho’s explosive outburst… he had never seen anything even remotely like it. 

He had never _felt_ anything like it, either… never had _he_ been the one without control over which direction he was moving, nor the speeds or destination… the fact that he still couldn’t stop moving, moving _away from Minho_ , the _opposite_ direction of his beloved… it sent icy streaks of fear throughout his being, and the claws of melancholy shredded him to pieces. 

Yet, despite the unimaginable speeds he could not help but be projected away at, he never lost sight of that intense white light that never faded as long as he was moving. 

_Minho_. 

It’s him; Felix is sure of it. Who else could produce such terrifyingly bright emotions, after keeping them bottled up for so long? No celestial body, but Minho himself. Felix saw the light and knew within his heart that it was him.

The time comes when he finally stops moving, and regains complete control over his movements again. He looks forward, and narrows his eyes in determination.

He has his destination right there in front of him, no bigger than a barely-there pinprick in his vision. But it’s there, and Felix will burn out and cease to exist if he doesn’t get there first.

  
  
  
  
  


* . 

˚ ✩ . · 

  
  
  
  


**_I’m coming._ **

  
  


* . 

˚ ✩ . · 

  
  
  
  
  


Minho is back to his original state of existing.

  
  
  
  


Alone.

Lonely.

But this is what he wanted, right?

  
  


To be alone, and not need to worry about hurting those he cared about; have no emotional attachment to those he had no choice but to suck in and consume. With Felix gone, he has nothing else to worry about.

But the thing is, now that Minho has a taste of the feeling of having _purpose…_

_The feeling of needing somebody,_

_And them needing you back_

It’s terrifying.

It’s suffocating.

  
  
  
  


He needs it to survive.

  
  


“Felix,” Minho sobs into silence smattered with beautiful greens and pinks, blues and purples, “ _Felix._ I’m so sorry. Come - come back to me, I can’t do this without you…”

  
  
  


He curls into a ball and sleeps.

  
  
  


* . 

˚ ✩ . · 

  
  
  
  


For exactly how long he sleeps, Minho knows not.

He doesn’t move.

It doesn’t take much energy to stay still, and not move. He wonders why he hasn’t ever

Tried this before.

  
  


Without company, the seconds bleed into one 

And space time, once again, stretches on into dull, blurring, infinity.

  
  
  


**Perhaps things would be less painful if never I had met you**

**And the added Pain may not**

**Be an added burden to my shoulders.**

_But then again… the pain, the longing, the longevity… is what keeps us all going, in the end._

  
  
  


It’s fine.

Human years stretch on and on and on and on,

and on and on.

Entire galaxies crumble around him, and new ones take their place. Minho remains half-conscious, hurting, numb, hurting, **numb _,_** and lets it all happen. Immeasurable amounts of time pass before he has the strength to reopen his eyes after that. He swears he's fine.

Minho’s _fine_. 

  
  


He wakes up, _fully_ wakes up, and looks around. Perhaps he should move around again. What would Felix want? He knows he is not _dead_ ; that’s near impossible: but his eyes were closed throughout his entire explosion… he has no idea in which direction Felix could be right now, nor if he would ever want to set eyes upon Minho again.

Each blink stretches on into orbits and orbits long, and Minho realises he’s been lying dormant for so long that his gravity has almost weakened to nothing.

He’s dying.

He needs to keep going… if only to hold onto the hope of seeing Felix, just once more, just for a little longer. 

  
  


With effort that is agonising to exert, he manages to drag himself over to the nearest star, and for once he is uncaring of their protests as he sucks them in, feeling just a fraction of energy return to his being. He’s numb to it. 

It’s then that he decides, _screw it_ , he’s eaten one more star - what’s another? And then another and another and another and another and another and another and another and another and - 

  
  


It doesn’t take long to restore himself to his former glory after that.

  
  


It’s only when Minho is back to burning just as un-bright as he was before he met Felix when he realises. He can _hear_ again. 

After the explosion all he had been aware of was a low humming, but everything is back -- the silence sounds like it used to, and if he really tries he can hear the distant chatter of faraway stars and planets as they gossip and laugh together. 

But more than that - 

He can hear _Felix_. 

  
  


“ _Minho!_ ” 

Minho bursts into tears.

“Felix?”

“MInho! I’m -- stay there. Stay right there - I’m over here!”

If Minho really squints, he can convince himself that he can see Felix -- that one point, right in front of him, wherein the darkness folds into itself, and occasional fragments of celestial matter race towards at impossible speeds.

“Is that you?” Minho calls, and he can hear the relief in his own voice; he feels as though he could set himself alight again from the sheer _happiness_ he feels at this reunion. “It’s really you?” _The universe isn’t tricking me_?

“It’s me -- I promise. Stay there.”

  
  


If Minho thought the spacetime had passed slowly before, it was **nothing** compared to this.

But Felix is here. He’s here, and he’s heading for Minho, shouting encouragement and reassurance the whole time. 

He’s here,

He’s real;

  
  
  
  
  


Minho can wait an eternity longer if only they can be reunited at the end of it.

  
  


Finally, Felix arrives back as close as he used to be, and if Minho lets a few more tears slip, neither of them mention it. 

  
  
  
  


Felix stays hesitantly at the edge of his orbit, not wanting to cross any boundaries although the burningly eager need to cross into his personal space once and for all is reflected in starving eyes and the way that he inches ever-closer before restraining himself at the last minute.

Minho looks him in the eyes, inhales, and lets go of every single worry that held him back before.

“Get over here right now.”

  
  
  


The feeling of Felix’s lips against his own started an entirely new Big Bang within Minho - but unlike any other, this wasn’t a physically visible one. Instead, entire clusters of galaxies, stars and planets burst into existence within his heart, spreading out throughout his whole celestial body and form even to his fingertips that oh-so delicately held the younger by his middle. 

  
  


He never wants to let go. 

“I love you,” Minho whispers, thick against Felix’s lips, and he feels the gentle upturn of Felix’s lips plush against his own as the other presses back against him before they part. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Felix murmurs back, tracing love with his fingertips into every atom of Minho’s being. “We’re together now, right?”

“Today and forever.” Minho _finally_ doesn’t resist the urge to pull Felix closer again, and the feeling of an embrace after a haunting lifetime of being icily touch-starved is _heaven:_ it seems above anything that the universe could ever independently create. Perhaps they created this themselves. Perhaps they will continue to create new things like these, for the rest of their lives. Their _life_. 

_Together._

In crossing the spoken boundary into each other’s orbits, it doesn't take long for them to become one: two black holes becoming one black _whole_ and finding their forever home within each other.

In the end, this was never how Minho imagined his life to end up. But it scored him a lifetime of love with the celestial being who wore constellations on his cheeks and reflected nebulas back to Minho within his eyes, so really, it was all worth it. 

They live their lives together until the end of time; the last things to go even in the decay of the universe as a whole. It is a life well spent; a life full of togetherness, and unity, and beauty and happiness… 

  
  


**A life full of love.**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for making it to the end!
> 
> I really played about with the layouts here, and with italics and bold fonts as well - I wanted to do this to convey a sense of suspense, like minlix, who are literally suspended in space. I hope it came across with the desired effect! (and i hope ao3 keeps the layout bc it was annoying to format lmao). I also tried to make it relatively scientifically accurate, although of course black holes don't have consciousness or fall in love like this (that we know of) -- but they can indeed form binary formations and merge if they orbit each other for long enough!
> 
> Little explanation for what happened when Minho's emotions got the better of him: he became Active. black holes can become active when their gravity drags enough spacial matter in at once, and it orbits so so fast that the friction makes the matter heat up beyond belief and the black hole then ... kind of explodes?? it doesnt EXPLODE, but it throws out hella radiation and glows unimaginably bright. in this fic i tried to make it so that minho's emotional buildup served as the spacial matter that lead to his physical outburst - and in doing so, the force of it was what blew felix away, and separated them. i hope that makes sense and clears up any confusion about what happened :D 
> 
> Thank you for reading, please leave a comment letting me know your thoughts! Have an amazing day/night <3
> 
> twt: roseseungs  
> kofi: rainydays325


End file.
